


Just Try It (Then Try Me)

by Arvak



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Brief Mentions of the Really Bad Drugs, But don't do drugs guys, Derek is still a bad Alpha, Jackson is still an asshole, M/M, Peter is a Schemer, Stiles is sick of being the good kid, so Peter's gonna help him be bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21433948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arvak/pseuds/Arvak
Summary: Stiles has a difficult week and is sick of being the "good", "innocent" kid. Over the next week, Peter eases Stiles into doing several "bad" things for the sake of experiences outside of moral standards. What ensues thereafter is anything but conventional.-And still, Peter continued stalking towards Stiles. "It's simple. You're a teenager fed up with the rules that make you feel undervalued, underestimated and controlled. You're a teenager feeling the urge to rebel."Peter stopped only once his hand was pressed against the door beside Stiles' head. "I could help you take control," Peter purred quietly, and it sent tingles down Stiles' spine. "Or lose it," he added, cocking his head with a tilted smirk, "if you'd prefer."Stiles' bottom lip found its way between his teeth and he stayed silent for just a moment, frozen in what he thought might be fear, yet he's experienced fear before. This felt more like the edge of a cliff... The very edge; his bare toes curling over the rock, staring straight down at the drop, knowing that there would be no escaping once he fell...
Relationships: Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 7
Kudos: 138





	Just Try It (Then Try Me)

_"If you want to break free  
You know where to find me"_

**_ -Antigravity, _Starset**

**Monday**

"So, Allison and I had sex yesterday," Scott said, grinning too big.

Stiles looked over at him as his hair flopped into his eyes with each step. He was particularly distracted today so he couldn't help but remember how he had looked with shorter hair. He'd looked so much better and it had been far easier to take him seriously. With the floppy hair, all Stiles sees when he looks at him is Freshman Scott, wide-eyed and still a virgin... Which is why Stiles is so much more uncomfortable when listening to Scott talk about sex than usual (at least, that's what he tells his floppy-haired friend to save himself some embarrassment).

Still. He really shouldn't have let his hair grow out again.

"Okay?" Stiles made a face and hiked his book-bag higher up on his shoulders as they took the steps two at a time. "I thought you guys were already fucking like rabbits on a disturbingly regular basis."

"Yeah, but this time," Scott leaned closer with a conspiring grin and Stiles cringed away, "we did it in _public!_" Before Stiles could say or do something, Jackson came towards them on the other side of the hall and glared deeply into Stiles' eyes, intentionally shouldering him as he passed. Stiles rolled his sore shoulder and huffed. Scott barely batted an eye. "Up against a tree in the woods, Stiles. It was... It was..." Scott looked off through the roof like he was in bliss and Stiles' cringe became even cringier.

He was genuinely uncomfortable. In the past, he would've been excited for his friend - after all, he would want to share everything if he ever had something to share about. But now, he's only annoyed by Scott sharing his _too frequent _sexual escapades to him, even though he knows Stiles is still a virgin and sees no hope of changing that in even the semi-near future. Scott says it's just because he's jealous. Stiles won't ever admit that jealousy is actually the exact reason he doesn't want to hear about it anymore.

"Under the moonlight and _everything_, Stiles," Scott finally continued as they walked into the classroom and took a seat at their desks. When Stiles looked over at him again, he had metaphorical hearts in his eyes. He wonders if he should get Scott a stupid pair of heart sunglasses for Christmas instead of the $40 video game he'd planned on getting, if only to prove a point. "I'm gonna marry her," Scott said, nodding decisively.

"Right, just go ahead and marry the daughter of the hunter that spent two years trying to capture and kill you and your only friends."

The hearts disappeared from Scott's eyes and he gave Stiles a hard look. "_Derek _is not my friend. Chris can kill him for all that I care." The hearts returned and Scott sighed. "I just want Allison."

Stiles turned his head so that Scott couldn't see him roll his eyes.

-

**Tuesday**

Erica bounced up to Stiles and Isaac on the sidelines of the field during gym while she was supposed to be in class halfway across the school, holding up two pills. Both of the boys looked over at her in question. Stiles' first thought when he saw the pills was _girl aspirin_. Then his second thought was _Why is she offering us girl aspirin?_

"Acid," she said, winking a long-lashed eye. "Wanna try?" Stiles stared at the two white pills and felt his heart begin to beat harder in fear. Acid. The _drug_ Acid. The _drug that put people in junkie-jail_ Acid. Was this happening? Were his friends turning to drugs just like all of the scum of the Earth his dad has to arrest? No way. Not them. No no no no.

"Guys." Stiles looked between them but they didn't seem to register his voice.

Isaac looked at the pills between her fingers with rapt curiosity and smirked. "Hell yeah." Stiles scoffed and gave a look of deep, offended surprise to the curly-haired scarf-wearer. "You don't think being a werewolf will mess with it?"

Stiles stood back and his mouth dropped open. He flailed his arms, agasp at the complete lack of hesitation that Isaac showed and the creepy excitement in Erica's eyes. He thought they were better than this! They _had_ to be better than this!

"Nah, Boyd and I tried some yesterday. It was _awesome! _The walls were moving and Boyd said my lacey shirt turned into a neon spider web."

Isaac grinned. "Holy shit, I'm in."

Just as quickly as Erica came by and interrupted Stiles and Isaac's conversation about battle strategy for their next game of lacrosse, they were both gone. Neither of them had even glanced at Stiles, like the thought that Stiles would want to join them never passed their minds.

Which, well, they were right. Stiles is not stupid; he's not going to do _hardcore drugs _like that and risk getting addicted or, worse, _die from them,_ but... Come on! He could've joined them and just... watched and listened to them freak the fuck out at a table doing something weird. They could've at least pretended that he might be as rebellious and "cool" as them. But, no, he's the boring human amidst a pack of awesome wolves.

Whatever. That's not the point. The point is that they're going off to try _drugs. _Like, real drugs... Stiles frowned to himself. He'd once done a report on the affects of psychedelic drugs, including Acid and Magic Mushrooms and LSD and had found it, in all honesty, deeply interesting. Would he want to try it? Would he want to experience perceptual disturbances like that?

Stiles mentally slapped himself and buried that traitorous thought deep in the ground. No. He'd do right by his father.

Stiles shook his head and kicked a rock in disgruntled anger and then ran like his ass was on fire when it hit Coach Finstock right in the head and he began shouting abuse, naturally latching onto Greenburg to attack when he couldn't find the culprit.

Fuck his life.

-

**Friday**

"I'm just saying, there's a right way and a wrong way to drive through a parking lot." Danny looked over at Jackson. "You do it the wrong way."

"I do it the 'I'm rich and I don't give a shit' way," Jackson said back easily.

"Still the wrong way," Stiles said, eager for every opportunity to bring Jackson down a step, even though he knew that there were no other werewolves around with super strength to save him if Jackson decided to beat him up. It was just him, Jackson and Danny, and he knew Danny wouldn't stick up for him if Lizardbrain decided to hurt him.

They were walking down the dark street to the ice cream store after watching a movie at the theater that they were somehow all equally interested in. Stiles had really wanted to go. He had showed off his three tickets to the pack. No one wanted to go... Except Jackson did. Stiles knew that would end up in disaster so he tried to say he couldn't come, but Jackson snatched the tickets out of his hand, and Stiles was forced to join them.

The movie had been great. Danny had sat between them and kept the tension to an all-time low between them. It had actually been enjoyable. The three of them had all praised and dissed the movie in hushed whispers while the people around them glared at them for talking during the movie. Why they couldn't be talking about the movie and bonding over that instead of having a pissing match about driving in a parking lot? Who the fuck knows. It must just be the natural order of things. The universe has obviously decided he and Jackson are not ever allowed to get along.

Jackson, in response to Stiles' snark and just proving that the universe hates them, looked over at him with a face of utter disgust. "I could take your shit lawn ornament of a car and wipe the fucking floor with it."

"That would be impressive since, you know, it weighs several thousand pounds," Stiles said with faux impressment on his face. Jackson's lizardy eyes narrowed at him.

"You don't think I could lift that," he gritted through his teeth.

Stiles, against his better judgement, let out a loud, full-belly laugh. "You're really going to brag about how much you can lift after you were given _werewolf powers?! _That's like bragging about how much you can shit after being slipped laxatives in your drink at a bar-"

Jackson suddenly grabbed Stiles by the shirt and yanked him around, throwing him against the brick wall of the library and Stiles screamed when he watched Jackson's fist fly at his face. A moment passed in which the sound of brick breaking beside his head, tumbling to the ground until it all stilled rung out through the night.

"That's right," Jackson sneered, inches away from his face, though Stiles couldn't see him because his eyes were shut too tight to even crack them at the moment. He was just glad it was the wall that suffered the wrath of Jackson's fist instead of his face.

He felt Jackson back away from him, and then listened to their footsteps continue down the sidewalk.

"Dude, that wasn't cool," Danny mumbled as they walked away.

"Shut up, Danny," Jackson snapped. "The little asshole has to learn some way or another."

Stiles slowly opened his eyes, heart hammering in his chest and shoulders pulled tight and hunched. He looked beside his head at the fist-sized hole in the brick wall and kind of felt like crying. Not that he was sad. He was pissed. He was so pissed and angry that all he wanted to do was beat Jackson to a pulp. It was because he knew he couldn't even lay a finger on him without getting a broken arm that he wanted to cry.

"Don't do that again, though," Danny mumbled. "We don't need vandalism charges."

After that, Stiles heard the sound of a large wall of glass breaking, deafening in the dead of night, the sound of Jackson's laugh and Danny's surprised _"Dude!"_, and then the sound of both of them running away, leaving Stiles alone.

When he finally looked away from the hole in the wall beside him, he was just able to watch them run around a corner and disappear. He looked at the glass from the library's window littering the sidewalk near him and winced. Why the library? He liked the library.

"HEY!" Stiles jerked and looked over at woman who was peeking out of the 24-hour pharmacy from across the street. "What did you _do?!_" Stiles looked between her and the glass and then his heart clenched anxiously. She thinks he did this. Oh god, he _really _doesn't need his dad knowing about this. "I'm calling the cops!"

"God damn it!" Stiles hissed and he ran, too.

-

**Saturday**

"I'm sick of it!" Stiles shouted, pacing angrily. "I'm walked on, I'm underestimated, and I can't... Jackson is _always_ doing _something_ to me and I can't defend myself against him but no one else does either!!" He wanted to throw something so bad. "They're doing _drugs_ and _vandalizing-_"

"Why are you telling me this," Derek asked heavily, staring up at Stiles from his place on the couch with a look on his face like he just wanted to beg for mercy and be left alone.

"Because they're _your_ Betas!" Stiles flailed his arms as he shouted.

Derek blinked slowly at him. "Okay?"

Stiles stared down at him with a lax mouth in utter disappointed surprise. Would Derek really just look the other way with this? Does he really not care? "How can an Alpha really not give a _shit_ about his pack?!" Stiles spat on impulse. He was already flustered and still sore from his meeting with the library wall. He was pissed and... and alone. No one would take his side, except Scott. Only, of course Scott wouldn't do anything. If he found out Erica and Isaac were doing drugs, he'd try to scold them until they convinced him to join them, and then he'd think it's cool and slide down to that sort of "cool kid" standard like he did when he got the bite and started getting good at sports.

Stiles, against his better judgement, can't hold that against him. Well, he totally _could_, but he chooses not to because what else does he have at that point? At that point, all he has is a pack that expects _him_ to do what they need, but gives him nothing in return. Nothing really meaningful, anyway.

And that was a thought that was even more painful than any physical injury he could sustain. So yeah, he expected Derek to do something. _Anything_. But all he got was _"okay?"_. It was only natural that he snap at Derek about his frankly shitty job at being an Alpha.

Stiles winced, though, when Derek's eyes flashed and he got to his feet, Murder Brows taking place low over his red eyes. In just a second, he realized how out of place he was. He's not oblivious. He knows that Derek was never meant to be an Alpha. It was supposed to be his sister and, who knows, after that maybe it would've naturally gone to _Peter_ \- Zombiewolf sure does want it far more than he does. But, through painful events with no necessary reintroduction, Derek became the Alpha, and he had to bite these delinquents and he's doing the best he can with what little he has left.

"Wait," Stiles interrupted when Derek opened his mouth to bare sharp teeth. "I'm sorry." Stiles sighed and ducked his head, a hand finding a way to his hair and pulling in distress. "I didn't mean it."

"Yeah, Stiles," Derek barked angrily. "You did." Stiles looked up with pleading eyes. Surely he knew that it was just an impulsive thing with foundations based only on frayed emotions which held no true merit. But, as it seemed, Derek didn't see that. He was already walking to the door, grabbing his leather jacket on the way and he was gone in seconds.

Stiles felt his world crumbling and recognized the steep hill towards a panic attack coming into view. He wrapped one arm around himself as if he could somehow physically keep himself together and rubbed his face with the other hand.

"He sure handled that well," Peter noted from the spiral staircase where he'd been loitering the entire time. Stiles dug his nails into his side and took a breath, feeling his heart beating too fast, too hard. "He might be genuinely offended that you told him what they're doing is wrong... You know, when he was young, he would sneak into his dad's desk and drink his liquor. He was just as rebellious as they are." Peter's tone, so light and heedless, grated on Stiles' nerves. _And_, for some reason, the knowledge that Derek was just as innocent as Erica and Isaac and Scott and the rest - that is to say, his _non-innocence_ \- pissed him off even more.

Why does it seem _Stiles_ is the only one who's never risked anything other than his life?! Why is that not enough?! Why does he have to be the boring "good" kid while the rest of them get to drink and have sex and do drugs?!

Why does Stiles have to value rules so much? If he wasn't so afraid of doing the _wrong thing_, would he be any different? Would he still be a virgin? Would he still be untainted by drugs or alcohol? Would he have stolen things and vandalized public places? Would he have made sure he didn't miss out on all of the societal stepping stones that adolescents have to cross in order to assert themselves as a strong member of a community?

Stiles sat down on the table and hung his head between his knees with his hands crossed tightly over the back of his neck. He breathed.

He was better than them, obviously. He didn't need to be bad in order to feel whole. He was perfectly happy being the good kid that his dad always made sure he was...

Stiles let out a dry, strained laugh as he realized something.

_He certainly was not happy being the good kid_.

"Is something funny?" Peter asked. He was closer, now. Stiles looked up at him, just a few yards away, having abandoned his perch on the stairs. He looked up at the well dressed man in front of him, head cocked in curiosity, eyes dark with mischief as per the usual. The murderer, the master manipulator, the darkest soul in this town. He looked up at him and he, not for the first time, felt the deep heat of dark excitement.

"I'm sick of being innocent," he said, voice hard but still shaky with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Peter wandered over and sat down on the armrest of the chair in front of him. "I hate to tell you this, little thing, but you're far from innocent." Stiles blinked at him. How is he not innocent? He's not even been touched in _any_ sexual manner by another human being before! How is that not the epitome of innocent?! "Need I remind you of the blood that has stained your hands?"

"Not-..." _Well, true. But..._ "Not that kind of innocent."

Stiles' breath left him and he shook his head. Why is he doing this? What's the point in wanting to be bad? What, for a few useless thrills and the possibility of consequences that outweigh the first few moments of glee 1,000 to 1? Why is he telling someone this?

Why is he telling _Peter_ this?

"Never mind," he mumbled, standing up on shaky legs, still thrumming from his anger.

"Never mind what?" Peter asked, curiosity dripping from everything about him. It was sometimes disturbing. Stiles often wondered if he'd kill someone close to him - be it Derek, Scott, one of the Betas, or himself - just to sate his curiosity. It reminds him of Isaac Newton, who had put a bodkin in his own eye socket to learn about it, risking severe injury in the name of discovery.

"Nothing," Stiles said, blinking hard and trying to push the thought about needles in eye sockets out of his head. "It was stupid."

Stiles went for the door but Peter spoke up and said, surely, "I know what you're thinking." Stiles ignored him and continued to the door. If he could just get home and sleep, maybe he'd forget about all of this anger.

"You're sick of the ideals your father put into your head." Stiles stopped. Why did he stop?_ Just keep going before Peter can get in your head!_ "All around you, the only people you hold dear are doing things that may be stupid and reckless, but they're having fun, whilst you're stressing every moment over what you think is a stark line between right and wrong. You're jealous they have it so easy."

Stiles turned his head and looked over his shoulder at the man who was effectively reading his mind. Peter, leaned now against the back of the couch with his arms crossed, smirked. "And yet, your father; your only pure point of authority, has made an entire life of effort making sure that line is never crossed." Peter kicked off the couch and came walking up to Stiles. Stalking, it felt more like. "It's really quite simple, darling."

"Simple," Stiles scoffed, turning so his back wasn't towards the man he still wasn't quite sure he could trust. "I think our definitions of simple are _very_ different." He still couldn't believe Peter could read him that well. Every word he's spoken so far was true. Every word.

And still, Peter continued stalking towards Stiles. "It's simple. You're a teenager fed up with the rules that make you feel undervalued, underestimated and _controlled_. You're a teenager feeling the urge to _rebel_."

Peter stopped only once his hand was pressed against the door beside Stiles' head and Stiles sucked in a breath, the back of his head audibly thumping on the door behind him. He could feel Peter's unnatural body heat surrounding him in an all-encompassing furnace. He felt Peter's hot breath fanning down his neck, and he tried very hard not to look at the icey blue eyes which stared into his soul.

"I could help you take control," Peter purred quietly, and it sent tingles down Stiles' spine. "Or lose it," he added, cocking his head with a tilted smirk, "if you'd prefer."

Stiles' bottom lip found its way between his teeth and he stayed silent for just a moment, frozen in what he thought might be fear, yet he's experienced fear before. This felt more like the edge of a cliff... The very edge; his bare toes curling over the rock, staring straight down at the drop, knowing that there would be no escaping once he fell...

"No," Stiles said quietly, barely audible and perfectly pitiful. He was too close. It was too intimidating, too... too _tempting..._

"No?" Peter asked, raising a brow. Stiles suddenly found it physically painful to look int his eyes. Fuck, those eyes... Icey blue - the blue of arctic icebergs under the bright ray of sunshine... Although right now they were electric blue of lightning in the cold night from the shift, bright and glowing, swallowed up by blown, dark pupils.

"No," Stiles said again. "I don't want-"

"You don't want?" Stiles closed his eyes and grimaced, knowing exactly what was coming. "That night in the parking garage, you told me no, and you lied, with your wrist right under my teeth... And now? Not entirely dissonant, my dear." Stiles pressed back against the wall as much as he could when Peter suddenly leaned in closer to say, right against his ear, "I do hope you know that making a habit of lying to me... Well, darling, that would be a truly unfortunate mistake."

Peter pushed off from the wall and made his way to the stairs in long, easy strides. Stiles took a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he watched him go.

"You know where I'll be when you reconsider," Peter called out, as if he was absolutely positive Stiles would succumb to his evil plans or whatever. Then he took the last few steps and disappeared up to the loft's loft.

Stiles was left alone, thoughts swirling around in his head violently. It bothered him that, for even just a second, he allowed himself to entertain the thought of letting Peter help him rebel, showing him the world of being bad.

"Damn it," Stiles grumbled, shaking his head as he left the loft and went home. Every moment after that was filled with oscillating thoughts, swaying from one decision to the other.

Stay loyal to his father and remain "good", or explore the world of exciting experiences and freedom with Peter?


End file.
